


Heavy on the Build Up

by cereal



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereal/pseuds/cereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don’t think I’ll be seducing Queen Elizabeth at all," he said. "Do you? Don’t you fancy a bit of running instead? Maybe I could make a speech, tug on my earlobe a bit? I could use the sonic, too." 50th spoiler fix-it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy on the Build Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is about as fluffy as I am frustrated with those spoilers. Which is to say: pretty damn fluffy.

The violent coughing started almost immediately.

He was sure she'd planned it that way -- a sinister plot, enacted right in his own TARDIS, right under his nose:

 _Watch the Doctor put a spoonful of pudding in his mouth, make ridiculous request of the Doctor, smirk at the Doctor's ensuing choking and sputtering_.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for Rose, he'd choked on pudding no less than two dozen times in his life, and was something of a dab hand at dealing with it. With minimal effort, and moderate expulsion of pudding into his nasal cavity, he cleared his throat and straightened himself in his chair, attempting to look as dignified as possible while still tasting butterscotch.

"You want me to do _what_ now?"

Instead of answering, Rose rubbed at the corner of her mouth with her thumb, nodding at him. He rolled his eyes and swiped at the pudding lingering in that position on his own face before glaring at her. Choking on pudding and having his direct questions ignored -- that was back-to-back activities he preferred not to partake in.

In response this time, Rose pointed to the tip of her nose, and he darted a hand up to clean his nose. The apple of her cheek, her forehead, and her earlobe all came next, and he inexplicably found himself mirroring her actions.

It wasn't until she appeared to be thinking about where to point to -- a sure sign she was making it all up -- that he snapped.

"My face is perfectly clean!"

She grinned at him. "Well, _now_ it is, and good thing, too, can't properly seduce Queen Elizabeth with a grubby face."

His hands hit the table with a thump, the empty pudding cup falling to its side with the movement, and he took his time righting it before responding.

She _really_ had said that then, she _really_ did think this was the best possible plan, and he _really_ couldn't believe it.

They'd retreated to the TARDIS kitchen -- or galley, if he was feeling persnickety, which he definitely was right now, might never be _un_ -persnickety again if Rose was going to say mental things and make him choke on his pudding snack -- to come up with solutions to their most recent predicament.

And that was normal, TARDIS, snack, brainstorm, and they'd probably land on something like "running" or "clever monologue" or "let's just see what happens."

They most certainly would _not_ land on "seduction," unless it was of each other, and even that hadn't happened in reality yet, it was just a...thought he was entertaining, an avenue he thought maybe, perhaps, they'd eventually explore.

So for her to be proposing it now, and of Queen Elizabeth, of all people -- well, that just wasn't done. Maybe Rose had forgotten how they usually do things?

Of course, that must be it, he'd just remind her.

"I don't think I'll be seducing Queen Elizabeth at all," he said. "Do you? Don't you fancy a bit of running instead? Maybe I could make a speech, tug on my earlobe a bit? I could use the sonic, too."

Rose ate a small spoonful of her own pudding cup -- how was it she still had pudding left? -- and shook her head.

"No, no, none of that's gonna work here. You said it yourself, we need information before we can do anything, need to know who may not be acting like themselves, and the Queen's not going to give that up to just anyone."

He had to admit, it _did_ sound logical. The Queen was likely to be guarded physically and guarded emotionally. If they could give her a reason to want to be alone with them, and to relax enough to speak, then they could probably get the information they needed.

Or, well, _some_ of the information. There was something bigger going on than just where they were, some dark, looming thing, possibly threatening all of existence, and his time was possibly running out, or some terrible secret of his was possibly going to be told -- he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

But, frankly, if he listened to every single bit of cosmic disturbance, he'd constantly be in bed with a big, acid-y, timeline-y stomach ache, and he didn't have the patience for that. Plus, the TARDIS had refused to give him the premium channels on the telly in his room, so what was he going to do in there, sleep?

Hardly.

No, much better to tackle the problem at hand right here, get it all sorted, and _then_ move on to the next. One step at a time, every little bit counts, don't make mountains out of molehills, a bird in the the hand is worth...well, he understood the point.

And the point was that he was not going to seduce Queen Elizabeth.

"She'd talk to her new friend Rose though," he said. "Go have a bit of chat about boys or...or...shopping and then you just ask her, you say, 'Has anybody in your court been acting like a Zygon lately?' Only you don't say ' _Zygon_ ,' you say, ' _out of the ordinary_ ,' and then she tells you and we investigate and all's well that ends well, no seduction necessary."

Rose took another scoop of pudding, licking the spoon clean before using it to point at him.

"That won't work and you know it," she said. "If anything, I'd blow our cover, and we'd be even worse off than we are now. Besides, I saw her look at your bum earlier, she'll go for it, I know she will."

He couldn't help preening at that. A queen! Looking at _his_ bum!

Of course, he mentally sniffed, pulling himself back, it'd happened before, loads of time, always had a pretty nice bum, even in some of the bodies where the faces were lacking. But still, Queen Elizabeth I! That was a big one.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, quick, little seduction, heavy on the build-up, light on the payoff. Maybe Rose could watch from behind a tree, get a glimpse of some of his moves, ease into it and get used to them.

Oh, maybe she'd get jealous. Not jealous in a way that upset her, but jealous in a way where she wanted to...stake a claim? That was a pretty universal concept, but humans went about it in awfully _physical_ ways, marking things with their mouths and their hands and their...mouths again.

And, if he wanted it to, Time Lord skin could bruise so terribly easily, just push some blood right up under the skin, right in the shape of her mouth, and, oh, all right, he'd do it.

He'd seduce Queen Elizabeth I, and then Rose would give him a hickey.

Somewhere in his brain it made sense.

"Fine," he said. "But she's not allowed to _touch_ my bum. Looking only."

Rose laughed and finished the rest of her pudding with a flourish of her spoon. "Is that a universal thing? No touching the Doctor's bum?"

He pushed away from the table, standing to turn around, and made a show of wiggling his bum in front of her.

"Why, Rose Tyler? Would you like to be an exception?"

Her hand had swatted his arse before either of them could think twice about it, and the feeling of it, and her ensuing laughter, followed them all the way to the console room.

Where his own laughter abruptly died.

"No, no, no, no," he said. "You can't do that. I refuse. My hair is a valuable -- no, a _critical_ part of my seduction technique in this body."

Rose raised her eyebrows at him.

"All right, of my _hypothetical_ seduction technique. You can't just...just...just _flatten_ it!"

Rose approached him slowly, with both hands out, like she was afraid he'd spook and run away, which -- truth be told -- was seeming like a better and better idea.

Gently, she tugged him down by the shoulders, and the tenderness in her movements fooled him into complying.

"It's just a little bit...aggressive the way you normally wear it," she said and he reared back to argue.

She pulled him back down, and began finger-combing his hair flat, speaking in a soothing voice.

"And I love it like that, I do, but that's...that's your Rose hair, yeah? We need your Queen Elizabeth I hair. It's like you're playing a part, and this --" she gestured at the top of his head and whatever she was doing to it "-- is your costume."

He snorted, some costume. Completely boring. He wasn't even going to look in a mirror. His hair could bear this indignation on its own, his eyes didn't need to witness it.

"There," she said finally, pulling back just as he was moving from the horrified stage of things into the enjoying-Rose's-hands-in-his-hair stage of thing. "That's you sorted. Now, how's your breath?"

He dutifully exhaled in her face and followed it up with a big grin.

"Air from my lungs," he said and waggled his eyebrows.

"And you're off to give it to someone else," she said. "Typical."

He let his grin drop into a smirk. "Bet there's a tree out there that could use seducing, too. Might just do the circuit while I'm at it."

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but then shook her head, apparently deciding against it. Instead, she tugged him by the arm toward the door.

"Ready?" she said, and then pulled the door open.

"As I'll ever be."

"I'll try and stay nearby in case you need me," she told him, and with a little shove and a wave, he was on his way.

An hour later, he'd fed Queen Elizabeth enough grapes to undoubtedly cause intestinal distress. She didn't seem to mind though, draped across him as they relaxed on a blanket. In fact, she seemed to be inching her face toward his with her lips parted -- a very clear signal that he was meant to kiss her.

He'd spotted Rose crouched behind a fallen tree trunk about 20 minutes ago, and he discreetly looked there now, willing her to advise him. Instead of the encouraging nod he was expecting (and dreading), he found Rose looking vaguely murderous, her jaw clenched as she slowly shook her head at him.

Oh.

Well, there was that jealousy he was hoping for, then. It did look altogether more violent than he was anticipating though. Hm.

Unfortunately, it did seem a _bit_ unavoidable at this point, the kissing, what, with the Queen's head advancing toward his and all. Best just get it over with.

Taking a deep breath, he puckered his lips and met the Queen's mouth with his own. There, that was...bearable. Better than a slap in the face, at least. It was dry, and sort of...cold. Maybe a bit chapped. He kept his lips puckered and turned his head to the other side. It didn't feel quite as natural as he remembered snogging feeling, but that could be down to any number of things.

Probably her fault, though.

He briefly thought to close his eyes, but glanced in Rose's direction instead, only to find her doubled over the tree trunk, laughing.

Before he could think through the situation -- and the possible reasons for her laughter -- a clatter sounded from behind him. Soon he was galloping away on a horse, the Queen behind him, and Rose legging it in the direction of the TARDIS.

Then there was that whole messy bit with the Zygons and, if his hunch was correct, they were off for an adventure he was probably going to have to forget anyway. Or, at the very least, one that would reset and prevent this entire series of events from happening anyway.

But first -- first they had this short trip in the TARDIS and he had the opportunity to find out just what was so funny back there.

So he asked: "Just what was so funny back there?"

Rose looked up from where she was inspecting her nails on the jumpseat. "Hmm?"

"Back there, with the Queen," he said. "I was snogging her, and you were _laughing_."

Seemingly at the very mention of the event, Rose started laughing again.

"Hey! Oi! Stop that!"

She clutched at her stomach and dabbed at her eyes, the full of spectrum of human-in-hysterics theatrics, finally calming just long enough to gasp out, "You looked like a fish!" and continue on.

Well, wasn't this brilliant. He'd wait.

When she eventually calmed for good, laughter trailing into giggles and subsiding into a wide grin, he was ready.

"Looked like a fish _how_?"

She nearly lapsed into a fit again, but he quickly held up his hand -- "Don't."

Nodding at him, exaggerated and serious, Rose saluted him and took a deep breath.

"I just meant, with your lips puckered like that, and your eyes open wide..." she bit back a giggle. "Well, you don't get up to much kissing, do you? I shouldn't laugh, you just didn't know what you were doing."

There was some muttering then, under her breath and run together, so quiet that he could barely make it out, but it sounded suspiciously like, "And the Queen's not exactly a French courtesan."

"Wh-- what?"

Rose shook her head. "Really, it was just me being rude, I'm sorry. You were doing the best you could."

It was hard not to get offended, so he didn't even try. "Rose Tyler, are you implying that my performance back there was the _height_ of what I'm capable of?"

She shrugged, leaning further back into the jumpseat at his tone. "I dunno. It's silly, all of this. You looked silly, so I laughed, and that was rude, and I apologized, but we're still talking about it, and that's even more silly."

It didn't feel _silly_ , not to him anyway. It felt like he had something to prove.

Quickly, before she could move, he darted in front of her where she sat in the jumpseat. Putting his hands on the back of the seat on either side of her, he caged her in.

She raised her eyebrows warily and then spread her legs, so he stumbled between them, thighs knocking into the edge of the seat as she smirked.

"Can I help you, Doctor?"

It was clear now that he'd rushed into this a bit -- what, exactly, was his move here?

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I just thought you should know...I thought I could show you...See, the thing is --"

And he was sure there were more words, more things he meant to say, but instead he pressed his lips to hers. No pucker, no slow advancement, none of it, just mouth to mouth with Rose Tyler.

Finally.

It was the opposite of the kiss with the Queen because this kiss -- _this_ kiss -- was one he'd been quietly thinking about for ages. Imagining the softness of Rose's lips, the way she'd move her mouth against his, run her tongue along his bottom lip...all the things that were happening right now.

All the things he was missing because he was too busy _thinking_ about them.

He snapped himself back to the moment in time to open his mouth to Rose's request, slipping his tongue out to meet hers as his hands moved from the jumpseat to tangle in her hair.

Rose's arms wound around his neck, tugging him more fully against her as she adjusted the angle of the kiss, stroking her tongue alongside his as their mouths moved against each other, everything hot and wet and the opposite of this afternoon.

Oh, this afternoon, right. He was supposed to be proving something. He pulled back to nip at her bottom lip and then press a soft kiss to her top one, but -- lovely as they were -- they didn't hold the allure of her tongue, the one currently coaxing his back out, a complicated advance and retreat that had him simultaneously overloading and not getting enough.

She was curling her fingers into his shoulders through his jacket and that realization brought with it a whole host of others -- the way her thighs were bracketing his hips, the way her breasts were pressed against his chest, the stirrings of an erection in his trousers, the insistent beeping of the TARDIS.

Wait, what? 

With a frustrated groan, he reluctantly pulled away from Rose, wheeling around to smack the console, which only intensified the beeping.

He looked back at her pleadingly, wanting to keep kissing her and wanting the beeping to stop and wanting…just plain wanting. 

"Go," she said, give him a gentle shove. "Land the TARDIS, we'll get this mess sorted, and then we'll --" 

She gestured back and forth between the two of them, movements slightly flustered, and he was pleased to see she wasn't unaffected. 

"Then we'll what?" He couldn't help the lazy smile that spread itself across his face.

"We'll _that_ some more," she said, and couldn't hide her smile either. "Now _go_."

He made it all the way around the console this time, buttons and levers and the dance of TARDIS landing. 

A few moments later, the ship touched down well in the future, and he and Rose made their way to the door, the Doctor gesturing for Rose to go through first.

The first thing they saw was a floppy haired man in a bow tie. He squinted at them, head cocking like he was remembering something.

Then he blushed. 


End file.
